Page 14 of Rescued By Midnight

Alexei glowers at Jordan and mutters something in Russian. Jordan glowers back before sending an anxious glance my way and returning her attention to the photos.

Alexei doesn’t know I speak enough Russian to get by. He didn’t swear at Jordan. He called her a “beautiful, frustrating woman.”

I wonder if those two will ever hook up. Maybe they already have.

Someone knocks on the door before walking in. Landon, of course. He surveys the table covered in print-outs showing the front of Hotel Rosa Roja, with our client’s husband meeting a woman with a kiss.

“You’re still on the Poltrich case?” he asks. “Isn’t that wrapped up?”

“Just about.” I fucking love closing a cheating case. Especially when the outcome will be as satisfying as this one. The manipulative husband insisted on a prenup that would’ve given the wife nothing in the event of divorce, except in the instance of cheating. According to Mrs. Poltrich, he did that as an insult. But now it’ll bite him in the ass to the tune of millions of dollars.

“I need your help with another case.” Landon gives me a meaningful look.

Fuck. I knew he’d try to rope me in eventually. “Right now?”

“Yeah.” He waits until I flip him off, then turns around to go back to his office.

Now it’s my turn to mutter something in Russian, about how Landon is an overbearing asshole.

Alexei looks up sharply, an “oh shit” expression on his face, and the tips of his ears turning pink.

I shouldn’t laugh, but I do.

Once I get into Landon’s office, I raise my eyebrows. “This is the Alice Meeks case?”

“You talk about her like she’s a fucking stranger.”

“Because she is. I don't know her anymore.”

“You're such an asshole sometimes.”

He isn't wrong.

I shrug and lean against his desk. “So what do you want me in here for?”

“I want to find her kidnapper.”

“We already tried that.” When she first disappeared, we tried everything. We didn't sleep. We staked out her trash husband, we put all our employees on the case. As time went on, we didn't give up, but we slowed down.

And then yes. A month ago, I gave up. She had been missing for a year. I tried to get Landon to give up, too.

“Now we have more to go on.” He shakes his head, like I'm an idiot.

He's not wrong there, either.

He adds, “Look, the press is already saying she wasn’t kidnapped; they’re suggesting she ran off.”

My head snaps up. “The fuck?”

“They're pointing at the frustrated tradwife angle, the restrictions of Seven Blessed Days, and so on. You can turn on any news channel and see it.”

I don't want to see that shit. I'll probably punch the screen.

Landon's phone buzzes next to my hand. I glance down.

Wonderland: I’ve missed you both.

“You're texting her?” I point at him, then his phone. “What the fuck? She told us to stay out of her life.”